End Game
by whatsthefracas
Summary: My idea for a series 2 finale. Romance, friendship, treachery, adventure. EVERY character!
1. Chapter 1

Halfway to West Virginia it dawned on me that I needed to move beyond one-shots and write you all a full-fledged, multi-chap story. I wrote the outline of this in the car, in the dark actually. A few notes:

It's technically set after 2.11 (because I was dissatisfied with the preview for the finale and thought I could do a better one myself) I've all but eliminated spoilers for those who aren't up on the show, but there were a few that had to just stay in, like Allan's side-switch. One thing that might not make sense is Carter, all you need to know is he was taking a message from Robin to the King.

I elided time a little. Episode 11 took place during midsummer. But like other authors here, I wanted to see what the outlaws are like when there are icicles in Sherwood, so I fast-forwarded it to about this time of year (in eleven-ninety-whatever, of course, and when I say "this time of year" it's from a northern hemisphere perspective.)

I really don't like Guy, but it's hard to write a character you wish didn't exist, so I made him bearable. Sorry in advance if he seems "soft".

There will be, give or take, 13 chapters in all and I'll try to be speedy with the updates.

Happy reading and please let me know what you think!

* * *

"Riding in the snow again, Lady Marian?"

She looked up to see Guy standing in the door of the stables, arms crossed, slightly smiling.

"But of course, Sir Guy. And with this lovely cloak someone gave me, I shall be quite comfortable."

She grinned and brushed past him as she guided her horse out into the courtyard.

Guy had been too good to her, she thought, unhappy with the knot of guilt that tinged their friendship with uneasiness. She could never equal his affection in kind, and yet, she was proud of the subtle changes within him, for which she felt responsible. His presence made her smile. She was afraid of that. As for his "right-hand man" Allan, he had become an important friend to her, protecting her when Guy's allegiance to the Sheriff made overlooking Marian's more willful and generous nature difficult to excuse. That nature had kept her sneaking out whenever she could, in aid of the people of Nottingham town, the confines of which she was limited to, an unfortunate compromise that prevented her from assuring the well-being of her own village Knighton, or from seeing a certain outlaw. Unless, like today, Guy had allowed her the luxury of a proper ride with room to canter, outside the walls.

As she passed through the town gate, Marian looked towards Sherwood, her destination. The last time she saw it, there were still a few leaves clinging to the trees. It looked bleak today, however, and she wondered what kind of effect such a dismal forest had on the gang. She hadn't seen Robin in a week, and even then it was a distracted meeting outside a stall in the market. Robin was growing distant, his thoughts cloudy—she could usually read him at a glance, but lately his face was guarded and tense. He had received several hints at the King's possible return, and she knew Robin felt himself personally responsible for protecting Richard from the treachery the Sheriff and the Black Knights were planning. She knew it troubled him, but there was something else on his mind, she could tell. She had hoped to run into Much first to try to gauge Robin's mood. As she neared the cave where they moved their camp in winter, though, she got the feeling that no one was around. Marian never felt truly alone in the forest. There were squirrels and birds, of course, but there was also Robin, behind every tree. Or at least that's how she felt—but not today. This afternoon she felt a chill and an emptiness in the forest. The cave looked abandoned. She breathed out a huff into the frosty air, shivered, and pulled her horse's reins to turn around. As disappointment and cold set in, her face fell into a frown. She missed Robin—greatly. At the edge of the forest, she was about to kick her horse into a gallop, ready to race back to the warm, and for the first time lately, welcome air of the castle. She paused though, enough to remember how she would rather wait until she was frozen through for a moment with Robin than spend a lifetime by the fire in the Sheriff's castle. In that pause, a clear whistle shot out from behind her. She sat up straighter in the saddle and waited to hear it again. Instead she heard Robin hiss her name in a harsh whisper, forced and unfeeling, almost a command for her to obey. The softness she felt before gave way to a prickly and contrary wish to ignore him altogether if he was going to beckon her like that, but when she glanced over her shoulder and saw Robin standing in the clear, open air, out of the forest and vulnerable, she knew it wasn't the time to fight.


	2. Chapter 2

"Well, how are you?" Marian asked once she and Robin had settled deeper in Sherwood.

"I don't know."

She sighed. "Well then."

They looked at each other in slience.

"Will you tell me what's the matter?" she offered gently.

He handed her a weathered piece of paper. After some scrutiny, she passed it back to him, but did not respond.

As the taut quiet between them became overwhelming, she said curtly, "So what will you do?"

Robin shifted his stance, looked down at the ground and then finally back up at her.

"I must protect the King, even if that means leaving the shire."

"And you are sure this is an authentic request?"

"What do you mean?"

"Surely you know that not everything form the King is really from the King," she replied in that tone he both loved and hated.

"Yes," he countered, "but Carter signed it. I have to trust him."

Marian shut her eyes for a moment to calm herself. She was growing frustrated. She knew where this was headed. It was all too familiar of a conversation they had had a long time ago.

"Marian, you _know_ if I could stay and do everything from right here, I would. But this is bigger than Nottingham. I might have become Robin Hood, but I am still Robin of Locksley and I am duty-bound to secure the King's safety. I cannot help it if the game has grown in scale."

"No you cannot help it," she snapped. "But you can choose how you structure your strategy. Do you really think following some piece of paper's provisions off to another town, _abandoning_ the people here will serve the greatest good—when you could be awaiting the King for _months_!"

"Marian—"

"What do the others say?" she quickly added.

"I haven't told them."

"Robin." She glared at him.

"Well, you see how you did not greet the news with much—alacrity. They'll understand even less. Besides, I haven't come to a final decision yet."

"Robin." She paused. The strain between them was pronounced and almost painful, but it was unavoidable. They hadn't discussed the matter of _them_ in weeks. Bringing it up seemed strange to Marian, who still never quite knew how to be honest with him about how she felt. And yet, at this moment, all she wanted to scream was: "What about me?"

Instead she said in a voice trying to be void of emotion, "I should be going."

"Wait, Marian." Robin moved closer. "Stay." He embraced her. "Tell me what you did today, tell me what you did yesterday, tell me anything, tell me about Gisbourne even, I don't care, just don't go.

She held him tighter.

* * *

The Sheriff swirled the feather of his quill around his chin while he looked over the document he was about to sign.

"Now, Gisbourne," he started distractedly, scratched off his name, pushed aside the parchment and looked up with full attention.

"What is the status of that forgery I assigned you? Did you get your homework done, hm?"

"Hood should be reading it right now," Gisbourne replied. Even after all this time, he still bristled at the Sheriff's tone of perpetual condescension.

"Good. This is good. And have we dispatched the men to, uh, 'meet' him on the way?"

"They leave tonight."

"Excellent. You know, I worry that you've been weakened of late, what with our castle guest, _Maid_ Marian. I want you to know, one step in the wrong direction and she'll be gone for good. So, don't get too attached. She's hung on here longer than I thought, but I have a feeling she'll be stepping out of line very soon."

The Sheriff chuckled to himself as he always did when he was hiding something. Gisbourne grimaced and took his leave.


	3. Chapter 3

Marian had convinced Robin to tell the gang of Carter's letter and, though he did not look forward to it, to solicit their input. As expected, Much took it worst of all.

"But, Master, what will you do once you get there?" he asked over and over, fully resolved that whatever Robin _was_ going to be doing that he would be doing it too.

The others, especially John, had little to say on the matter. They had long noticed the change in their leader. He had been leaving more and more of the daily good deeds up to them, preoccupying himself with thoughts of a bigger picture they didn't see. Little John had taken on a lion's share of the interceptions and deliveries, to the point where he seemed worn down. They shied away from asking him to display extraordinary strength unless it was necessary, for fear that that strength might not be there. It was winter, though, and they were all tired. But so were the people they were helping, so they had to keep smiling. Robin's announcement of his probable departure was discouragement they didn't need.

Later that evening, Djaq and Will went to get water from the half-frozen stream. They could have easily collected and melted snow, but they preferred to put some distance between themselves and camp.

"What do you think of all this?" Djaq asked first.

"Robin has always had a higher authority. It seems natural that he should be called to something apart from us. It's going to make this winter more difficult, though."

"So you think he will go? You think he should?" she responded a little surprised.

"I don't know if he should," he paused, "but I know he will."

They walked awhile in silence.

Then Will ventured, "Of course if the King really _is_ coming back to England, this might mean it will be over for us as outlaws soon."

Djaq smiled. "How many times have we heard _that_?"

"Yeah." Will bit his lip.

After a moment, he started again, "But I suppose it doesn't hurt to think about what comes next."

He glanced over at her. He was trying to carefully open that conversation they had never let themselves have.

"Will you stay in England?" he blurted.

She looked away, pretending to be distracted by something farther off.

"It depends," she replied casually. "Depends on what your king has done to my home." She waited and added, "Depends on how much my heart wants to stay."

Will stopped suddenly and whispered, "How much does it want to stay?"

She reached for his hand.

"Very much."

* * *

"So what's new Guy? Business as usual, it seems. Anything new on the Robin Hood front?" Allan asked as they sat by the fire in Locksley.

"In a week you won't have to ask that," Guy replied without looking up.

"Oh, why?" Allan said, concealing genuine interest.

"The Sheriff has a scheme—we're sending Hood into a trap."

"And he's going to fall for it this time?"

Guy glared at him. Allan shrugged.

"Like I said, in a week, you won't have to ask that.


	4. Chapter 4

One little note: Upon re-reading the previous chapters I was struck by my own vagueness of Robin's destination. I don't have anything up my sleeve by not saying outright "Robin has been told to go to ----" I just didn't feel like getting a map of England out to pick a reasonable place where the King might arrive. I would have gone with Dover, but I didn't want to sound like a dunce so it's left as "another town." Apologies.

* * *

Allan looked both ways before he knocked on Marian's door. After hearing a faint reply from within, he entered, finding her gazing out the window at the gray sky and bleak rooftops of Nottingham. 

"Allan!" she said upon turning around. "How are you?"

"When was the last time you spoke to Robin?" he asked outright. No need to take time getting to the point when the point was very grave.

"Yesterday. Why?"

"Well, it's just the Sheriff and Guy are planning something. Did Robin say anything about, I don't know, about going somewhere, somewhere that would take him on the roads?"

Marian's face fell. It wasn't the first time she had to react to the realization that Robin had waltzed himself into danger.

"He received a note from Carter, a man he trusted, saying to travel to another town to await the King's arrival," she explained.

"Look, I don't know exactly what the plan is," he tried to say reassuringly. He paused and then offered, "I'll go—I'll go warn them." He knew that was Marian's first thought and he also knew that her going out to meet the gang might be more of a disaster than they needed. They never knew when the Sheriff was going to stop overlooking her and finally deal out the punishment she had always been one step ahead of.

* * *

"You look tired, John," Much remarked. 

"I just made four deliveries, my boot sole is coming clean off, and you've been feeding us jerky for three days straight—tired is only the beginning of it."

They all looked stunned. It was the most words they had ever heard Little John say in one breath.

"Well," Much stuttered, "well anytime one of you wants to go out and hunt down a nice fat pheasant be my guest."

While they were arguing about food, Allan walked right up, tapped Djaq on the shoulder and crossed his arms.

They all took turns shouting at him and threatening him if he didn't leave.

"You _still_ don't trust me," he laughed.

Much was dumbstruck. "Trust you?!"

"All right, all right, just a joke. Look, I'm here for Marian. Where's Robin?"

They all looked a little edgy, as if Allan had just asked the most sensitive question.

"Gone," Little John stated.

"Gone?" Allan repeated.

"Here—if you really came on behalf of Lady Marian," Much eyed him suspiciously, "this is for her." He handed Allan a folded parchment.

"So he left?" Allan asked again, sounding more concerned. "You're sure?"

"Yes, why?" Djaq asked, touching Allan's arm lightly. "What's wrong?"

Will fidgeted and squared his jaw.

"Well, it's just I think he might have gone right into a trap. I mean, I don't know for sure, but the Sheriff is up to something and Robin leaving can't be a good thing."

"What are we supposed to do now?" Will asked more forcefully than he intended.

"I don't know. Here, I'll take this to Marian. Let's just hope Robin's not in any trouble.

* * *

Robin had been careful to take unmarked and unfrequented roads, but he had to stop and water his horse at a pond in a clearing. He tugged his good and hunched over, all the while keeping his ears pricked for anything approaching. A twig snapped behind him. He turned and before he knew it was knocked to the ground. He awoke in the dungeons of Nottingham Castle. 


	5. Chapter 5

Allan hadn't dared to read the note Robin left for Marian. After sneaking into her chamber while she was in another part of the castle, he placed it just under her blanket and stepped silently away. When Marian climbed into bed that night she found these words written out in a familiar haphazard script—

My dear Marian, I have decided to follow Carter's orders and leave Nottingham to await the King's arrival. Whether or not this is the right thing to do for the gang, for the people of Nottingham, for you, I am going because I cannot stand by any longer torn between meeting the immediate needs of everyone and keeping the King safe from Prince John and the Sheriff's plan. Believe me, it does not go unnoticed that I am leaving you unfairly—again. I need you to forgive me. I did not ask you for a promise when I left for the Holy Land, but I am asking for one now: wait for me. It will not be long this time. Please wait. My entire happiness depends on you, but it cannot happen until England is right again.

All my love.

Reading it with the knowledge that Robin was locked up in that very building, Marian grew bitter. Robin never listened to reason when he was resolved to do something. It irritated her, especially since she understood why he felt he needed to go. It was just part of who he was—he had to follow that instinct. She hoped, however, that he might have learned from this latest attempt that no matter the circumstances, leaving her was never a good thing.

* * *

Out of breath, Much nearly screamed, "Robin! They, they arrested Robin!"

John struck the ground hard with his staff and shook his head.

"Arrested?" Djaq repeated.

"It was a trap. Allan was right. They're billing his execution as entertainment for First Night!" Much looked as if he might tear himself apart with the emotion and energy that had surged up since he first heard the news on the streets of Nottingham.

"What exactly is going to happen?" Will asked, trying to be the levelheaded plan-maker in Robin's absence, though hesitating to seem too much like the leader.

"They're not going to hang him. It's to be _beheading_. The Sheriff wants his head as a holiday decoration!"

Djaq winced.

"We have to do something!" Much shouted frantically, stating the absolutely obvious.

They all knew they were going to need to pull on the entire gang's resources—the entire gang's. Someone had to get word to Marian—and Allan.


	6. Chapter 6

Robin sat slumped in the corner of the cell. Tears hung just behind his closed eyes as he gave his mind up to a piercing montage of memories. Marian—the Holy Land—the Sheriff—Richard—Locksley—Sherwood. He felt broken and let himself sink into that hopelessness. He would gather his strength, but not yet. First he had to wallow: it was his punishment for falling into this.

"Robin, Robin, Robin," the Sheriff cooed as he strutted through the dungeon. "We _need _you, oh hurry, save the King, save him, Robin!"

The Sheriff laughed unabashedly and stopped with his face almost pressed to the bars between him and Hood. Robin sniffed, rubbed his eyes, but did not move from the ground. He kept his gaze locked on the stone across from him.

"Now you won't mind if we use you to amuse the rabble, now will you? Budget is tight this season and we have to be creative with our festivities. It can be your Christmas present to your _beloved_ poor."

Robin did not move.

"Well, enjoy your stay. I'm sorry it will be so brief, but we can't allow too much time for your little friends to try to spring you out. I'll be seeing you soon. Don't be late!"

The Sheriff laughed his way out of the dungeon. Robin gritted his teeth and got to thinking.

* * *

The gang was all thinking the same thing: why did he leave in the first place? They each knew why, they knew Robin that well, but it was still difficult to understand. Their brainstorming session was undercut with a fierce anger at the entire situation. They wanted to be mad, but knew it wouldn't help and so grew more frustrated at feeling mad. No one was thinking clearly or creatively enough to come up with a good plan and the limits of time made them worried. Robin's execution was _soon_. The villagers needed food _soon_. And it was painfully cold in the forest.

"It's too bad it's not going to be a hanging," Much started. "I mean, at least then we could do what Robin did that first time."

"What, _shoot_ the rope? None of us are that good with a bow, Much. Come on," Will sighed.

"He's not hanging anyways," Djaq added, trying to steer them back to the facts.

Much frowned.

They lapsed into sulky silence and would have stayed that way if Allan had not crept up to their camp in the cave.

They all jumped when they saw him, except Little John who was inert with irritation. His face in a scowl, he was glaring at the fire.

"I've picked up some information from Gisbourne. I think I have an idea," Allan said, barely louder than a whisper.

The gang was all ears.


	7. Chapter 7

While the gang was in the forest planning out a rescue with the hints Allan brought them, Marian was sitting in her room, using her first moments of peace that day to think about how to see Robin. She had been otherwise occupied all day making small dropoffs of food and then dining with Gisbourne whose lately more pleasant attitude had been completely wiped away with the nearness of Hood's execution. Marian hoped her aversion to Guy that day was not apparent to him. The last thing she needed was to be on anyone's bad side.

Using her feminine wiles and a few well-placed hits to the head, she got past the guards and into the dungeon. With a bribe to the jailer, she was allowed in Robin's cell.

"Marian! Marian, you shouldn't be here!" Robin bolted up from the place he had been sitting the whole time since the Sheriff's visit.

"You shouldn't be here either, Robin. You being next in the docket to have your head chopped off doesn't bode well for the people of Nottingham, now does it?"

"Marian, please don't. I know—" he broke off and lowered his head.

Marian's face softened. "I'm sorry."

After a few moments, she added, "I don't know why it's so easy for me to be mad at you and yet—" she paused and looked away slightly, " yet it's so hard for me to tell you—"

Her voice was strained, she wasn't sure how to finish what she was saying so she went silent.

Robin slipped his fingers between hers. "Hard to tell me what?"

"How much I _need_ you!" The words burst out of her.

He held her as she sobbed, her face buried in his chest. It was the hardest he had seen her cry. After a moment, she started laughing lightly and looked up at him.

"Oh Robin, you're such a _fool_ sometimes. It's so _frustrating_!"

He smiled as she continued, more serious, "But I can't live without you."

At that Robin kissed her.

A few timeless moments later, he said quietly, "I'm sorry."

Marian looked at him questioningly.

"I've seen much treasure in my time as a well-intentioned thief," he started. She rolled her eyes.

"Well, I have," he continued. "But Marian, you are the most valuable, the most priceless, the most irreplaceable treasure in all of England and for some reason I forgot that. Marian, please, _please_, you must forgive me. I will never again put anyone or anything before you."

"Oh Robin, but some things are more important. The King is more impor—"

"No, Marian, no, nothing is more important."

She was inclined to argue with him, to belittle herself, to remind him of that bigger picture, that greater cause that he was always working for, but this time she let herself be wrapped in the selfishness of his love. To be so valued, she decided, was not a bad thing. It was a wonderful thing, the most wonderful of all. In the frosty dampness of the castle dungeon, Marian was the happiest she had been since that day when Robin asked her to marry him.

Almost reading her mind, Robin seized on that memory and stated seriously, "If I survive this latest gauntlet of the Sheriff's, we are going to have a wedding, whether or not the King is home safe or not."

Marian was going to playfully object, but instead she just kissed him.


	8. Chapter 8

Marian heard footsteps approaching in the dungeon. Pulling away from Robin quickly, she handed him a lockpick.

"Here, hurry, take this! I better not see you with your head on that block tonight. You _must_ get away," she whispered.

Robin tucked the pick in his sleeve, kissed her deeply, then slumped into the shadowy corner of his cell as Marian called for the jailer to let her out. Their visit had been too brief, but they had a challenge ahead of them.

Back in her room, Marian started to pack her belongings. Robin was going to escape, she was sure. He had to. And she would be ready to meet him at the camp. As she was scrambling to track down every scrap of clothing—it was going to be cold out there—someone pounded on her door. She jumped. Surely Guy had learned by now not to knock like that, which meant it had to be—

"Ready or not, here I come!" She heard the Sheriff's voice, creepy and foreboding, calling to her through the door. Before she had time to think, he was standing in her room.

"Going somewhere, Lady Marian?" he asked, eyeing the disarray of her things. "A clue: no. You're staying right here, little miss outlaw-collaborator. Guards!" he called for two men who began shackling her hands and feet.

"This is unacceptable!" Marian cried.

"Oh, I'm sorry my dear. You should have thought of that before you had that rendez-vous in the dungeon. Tell me, was it romantic? Did he look handsome in the torchlight?"

"You will pay, I swear to you, you will pay," Marian threatened.

"Will I? No, no I don't think so. You," he said pointing to one of the guards. "Stay here and see that she doesn't wander off. You two, man the door. I'll send for her when the entertainment is ready."

He turned to leave, calling back on his way out, "Farewell, my lady."

* * *

"Right," said John to Allan, "and how do you suppose we'll manage that?" 

"Easy," he replied. "Gisbourne said they're going to parade Robin through the people in the courtyard before they take him up to the executioner's block."

"Look's like the Sheriff's theatrics are going to come back to get him," Much said triumphantly.

"Only if we do this right," Djaq countered.

"You all understand the plan?" Allan asked just to be sure.

They nodded.

"Well then, I'll be getting back to the castle. We don't have much time. See you there."

* * *

Gisbourne smiled to himself as he prepared his horse to leave Locksley. Tonight was going to be a very satisfying night. A new year would be rung in with the well-attended death of his enemy. And, he thought, tonight would be the night that his passion was returned in full. He had noticed a change in Marian's feelings for him. She could deny him no longer. He was certain of that. As he rode in the direction of Nottingham, he was hopeful and proud. 


	9. Chapter 9

The First Night celebration had started at dusk, torches were lit, and those that could afford a pint of over-priced ale at one of the Sheriff's stalls were enjoying themselves. The rest of the people gathered in the courtyard and waited to be entertained. There was a low roar of chatter in anticipation of the execution. Many were regretful: it would be difficult to survive the rest of the winter without Robin Hood. The nobles smiled with self-satisfaction from their place along the castle portico. They felt validated in their support of the Sheriff by paying witness to the example of what would happen if they didn't. Gisbourne was standing anxiously on the steps. His eyes kept darting over to the nobles' section. He was looking for Marian. His surprise at seeing her in chains, trailing through the main doors behind the Sheriff a few moments later was enough for him to lose his footing and slip down a stair.

"Ah, Gisbourne! What a refreshing night," the Sheriff beamed.

"Sir, what is Marian doing—"

"Oh hush. It's all part of the program."

Guy couldn't take his anxious gaze off her. There was nothing he could do but wait to see what the Sheriff was up to. He grew angry at his helplessness. He immediately turned to Allan, as he always did when he wanted to exert authority, but Allan was not there. Gisbourne grew angrier.

The Sheriff yelled a few words at the crowd and called for the prisoner to be brought out.

Robin looked tired but he was standing tall. Each time he was hunched under a blow by one of the guards, he stretched himself back up and squared his jaw. He would not be bowed, not by the Sheriff or his useless followers.

The guards led him through the crowd. People reached out to him, stretching their hands out over people's shoulders, trying to touch him.

"Yes, yes. Reach for him while you can, before he leaves you—with nothing," the Sheriff yelled out to them. "See what a traitor and a villain feels like," he added meanly.

The gang was hiding cautiously under hoods, watching everything carefully, fingering their weapons lightly, ready to spring. Just as Robin reached their corner of the crowd, Much nodded to them, turned around, shouted: "Long live King Richard! Long live Robin Hood!"

People starting grumbling, yelling, swearing and pushing each other around in agreement or protest of Much's exclamation and in the disorder that followed, John took one swift sweep of his staff and knocked the legs out from under the executioner. He grabbed him on the ground, punched him until he was out, and slipped his black hood on.

The Sheriff was shouting irascibly at guards to seize people, but the chaos settled on its own. The entourage with Robin continued to make their way up to the platform in the middle of the courtyard.

Marian had watched all this with terror. She had recognized Much's voice and yet Robin was still about to be executed. With no knowledge of what the gang's plan was, she thought that it had failed. She felt there was no hope. Robin, and her happiness, would be put to death in a few blinks of an eye. She would be next, she knew, as she twisted her hands in useless objection to her bondage. She started silently weeping, cursing the tears as they blurred her last sights of Robin.

The Sheriff noticed this with glee.

"But wait, what is this?" he announced, holding his hand up to halt the proceedings. "Why, Lady Marian, it looks as if you have something to profess. Any last words for the outlaw? Gisbourne, doesn't it look like she's just aching to declare something?" the Sheriff said loudly, clearly, and with a sting.

Gisbourne blushed in anger and humiliation. He felt completely undermined, not just by the Sheriff's selfish scheme, but by the outpouring of sorrow from the woman he wanted most for the man he hated most.

"Well, go on my dear," prodded the Sheriff.

Marian's tearful eyes met Robin's. He nodded. He didn't need her to say it. She wouldn't say it. She looked at the Sheriff with hatred, but remained silent.

"No? All right then, carry on."

To the drumroll, John raised the heavy ax, paused with it over his head, and swung down hard right into the wood of the platform, just short of Robin's head on the block. He then grabbed Robin and before the Sheriff realized what had happened the gang had pushed themselves through the crowd and out the portcullis. They picked up their horses from Allan who had been waiting on a sidestreet and sped out of town with Robin safely among them. They didn't slow their pace even when they reached Sherwood. Racing through the dry trees and old snow, their horses steaming, the gang reached the cave out of breath and exhilarated.

"We did it!" Much exclaimed. "Master!"

Will was using his hatchet to cut away the bonds on Robin's wrists while Allan hung back the shadows, afraid Robin would wonder what he was doing back with them. Noticing the distress on Robin's face, Djaq tried to hint for Much to calm down.

Robin finally managed a smile for Much who wouldn't quiet until he received his Master's approval and appreciation. But it was clear to everyone that Robin was not as thrilled at his rescue as he should have been.

His heart had sunk when he saw Marian shackled next to Gisbourne and the Sheriff. At that moment, he had feared more for her than he did for his own life. She was in serious trouble and he was to blame. By association with him, by loving him, she was doomed. He had just scraped through what should have been his certain end and he was already thinking how he could get back in the castle to save her. He had to.


	10. Chapter 10

This chapter was hard to write. I hope it came off at least moderately well.

* * *

Marian had been taken to the dungeon where she awaited what the Sheriff had in store for her. He had been deprived of an execution that night and would be exceptionally cruel in his punishment, she was sure. Marian had nothing to do but wait. She didn't even cry. She just waited. Once, she wondered whether Robin could save her, but she pushed that out of her mind, knowing she couldn't rely on hope to see her through this.

As the light of dawn made a faint appearance in the dungeon's one window, Marian was awoken from her half-sleep by the sound of a familiar, determined step.

"Guy!" she exclaimed, in a whisper.

He was accompanied by the jailer who opened her cell.

"All right, lovely, this way, this way," the jailer poked her to walk out. She looked at Guy, puzzled, and resisted the jailer's icy grip on her elbow.

"What is this?" she demanded.

"You've been called for," the jailer answered. Guy was silent. He avoided Marian's eyes. He turned and started walking towards the stairs up to the rest of the castle.

"Well, go on, then!" The jailer poked her again.

"What?" Marian looked at the jailer and then at Gisbourne, whose back was turned to her as he walked away.

She took a few careful steps to follow. Gisbourne paused at the stairs, turned his head just slightly enough to catch out of the corner of his eye if she was coming, and then continued on.

Marian quickened her step until she was right next to him. "Guy!" He didn't respond. "Guy! What is this?" she implored again. He didn't make a single movement to acknowledge her, but kept walking down the corridor.

"Guy, please!"

He stopped at a door—the door to what had been her room in the castle since she had come there months ago with her father. He opened it, met her eyes for the first time, and nodded his head for her to enter.

Once in her room, Marian blurted out of exasperation, "Guy, I _demand_ you tell me what is going on."

He met her gaze with one of ferocity. "You don't get to make demands," he snapped.

She was silent.

He said one word, soaked in anger: "Hood."

Marian blushed.

"You still—" he broke off. Hate gathered behind his eyes. "You still love him." Once he had said it out loud, it was as if something broke in him. Hate gave way to utter disappointment. "You have _always_ loved him." His voice almost broke on the word _always_.

Marian was silent.

"Tell me!" he yelled.

Marian jumped a little. Looking into Guy's eyes frightened her. She looked at the floor.

"Yes," she finally stated, barely audible.

"And you never cared for me," he added.

"No! No," Marian started, looking up. She took a step closer to him. He held out his hand to stop her. She stood in place, but kept talking. "I _did_ care for you, and still do, but for only part of you," she tried to explain and quickly added, "only the part you most rarely show."

Now Guy was silent.

"You hide that part, though I don't know why," Marian said earnestly and with increasing confidence. "I don't understand you. How is it that you can show affection and kindness to _me_, but blind yourself to everyone _else_? How can you make yourself deaf to pleas for compassion? Deaf to anything but the Sheriff forcing you to blot out whatever goodness there is in you! Why do you let him do it? Why do you do what he says?"

Guy hardened his expression and changed his tone. "This isn't about what the Sheriff says. You are a traitor, Marian. Hood is a traitor. He should have died tonight. And he will. You will die too for your involvement with him. No appeal to my sentiments can prevent that."

Marian summoned the courage to say what she had to. "I love Robin," she paused and watched how Guy could not conceal a wince at those words. "But even if I did not feel anything for him, I would still do whatever I could for the people of Nottingham, no matter what you or the Sheriff threatened. I am my own woman, Guy. I am here because of my own actions."

There was a silent standoff. One thought circled Marian's mind, one that had been there since Gisbourne's cold "no appeal to my sentiments" made her wish she had not been so quick to admit that she did indeed care for him. She began to voice the thought.

"So you will see me die?"

He looked her intently in the eyes and nodded.

"Well then you may rest easy because you never really loved me. You couldn't possibly love me as I truly am."

At this, Guy broke. "Couldn't I?" he countered. Suddenly the air in the room seemed very tight and hot with the passion of silent emotion being finally freed. Everything he had just said up to this point evaporated and it was clear that it was all an act, practiced over years, perfected in his time with the Sheriff, but now before Marian, Guy was stripped down to the bare, raw, frantic, lonely need for another person.

"Couldn't I, Marian?" His voice faltered.

"Don't you think I've known?" he continued. "I'm not a fool, though you may take me for one. I've _known_ that you have been helping them. Known! And yet, I've kept silent. I've _let _you help them. Do you realize that? _Let _you. And you think I do not know you enough to love you?"

Marian did not know what to say.

Guy shook his head and started again, this time flatly, as if he was drained of that emotion that had just overtaken him, and was now returning to the better-known Gisbourne. "But I suppose I was a fool after all. I could not—would not—see that you still loved _him_."

"Guy—"

"No," Guy stopped her. He breathed in deeply and stood up straighter, with the resolve of someone who had just made a sudden, momentous decision which must be followed through.

He said, "I am going to do something for you. It will be the last thing I do for you and then I must never see you again."

Confused and overwhelmed, Marian tried to let Guy explain before she spoke up.

"This is a letter," he handed her a folded piece of parchment. "It was being carried by a messenger named Carter. It was meant for Hood, from King Richard himself. One of the Black Knights intercepted Carter; this note was sent here to the Sheriff. He thought he could trap Hood with a forgery."

"So, there _was_ word from Carter?" Marian asked excitedly, shaking the paper in her hand in disbelief. Yet, she was still thrown off by the abrupt change in mood that had just taken place in the room.

"Yes," Guy replied, then, remembering his purpose, continued, gravely, "You are in possession of the King's message. I will see you safely out of the city walls whereupon you may take that message to Hood, or whomever. At that point, our relationship is severed."

Marian looked at him, bewildered. He closed his eyes to keep from looking back at her. When he opened his eyes after a few full moments of quiet, he set his gaze on the wall and said, slowly and seriously, "You may only care for part of me. If in showing you that part, I may have your love, then it is worth any risk. But once you are gone—everything's back in its box." He smiled slightly to himself at the last phrase. Surely she would remember her own words.

She remembered, but the sound of them was disappointing. Marian measured whether she could persuade Guy not to stop once this one good deed was done. He could be convinced, she thought, and yet, it was time to be fair with him. He had the generosity—and the courage—to let her be herself, she needed to allow him the same. If he could not choose to be open to love at the expense of his place with the Sheriff, then she must let him be and she must realize herself that she cannot care whole-heartedly for more than one person. She had to give him up. With a silent nod, Marian accepted his terms.

She was on the road to Sherwood before the first market stall opened that morning.

* * *

"But, Master! We just rescued you! What if you are caught again?" Much was almost hysterical.

"I have to go back for her!" Robin yelled, losing his patience. He started to gather up his bow and quiver.

"I'm not bein' funny, but maybe we should hold on a second. I mean, we _did_ just get out of there," Allan spoke without thinking.

Robin glared at him as if to say: "You don't count, you're not even supposed to be here."

Finally Little John stepped in front of the cave entrance to block it. "Robin, _think_."

"I _am _thinking! I'm thinking, what good is it if I'm _rescued_ if the Sheriff _kills_ Marian!"

In the silence that followed those words they heard footsteps approaching outside.


	11. Chapter 11

Little John turned slowly and silently to see the source of the noise in the cavern entrance.

An overly chivalrous and uncharacteristic exclamation of "My lady!" escaped him as he realized the cloaked woman before him was Marian. The rest of the gang could tell who it was but responded with their own puzzled expressions.

"John?" Robin questioned.

Little John stepped aside so Robin could see her. His face lit with joy and surprise as he rushed to her and swept her up in a strong embrace.

"How did you get here?" he asked breathlessly, still holding her tight.

Marian paused before responding, "I had help from a friend."

"Who?" Much blurted on behalf of his Master.

Marian pulled away from Robin so she could see his face. "Gisbourne."

Perplexed and slightly irritated at the sound of Guy's name, Robin squinted his eyes and stared intently at Marian to read her emotion. "Gisbourne?" he repeated.

She nodded, but he still seemed not to believe her. In the silence that followed, Allan offered, "You know, he really isn't that bad."

Everyone turned to look at him as if they only just took notice of the fact that he was back with the gang.

Allan shrugged his shoulders and tried to smile.

"We'll get to the issue of _you_ in a moment," Robin said to him, then turned back to Marian. "Did the Sheriff speak to you at all?"

"No," she replied. "Although I can only assume he is going to be upset about recent happenings."

Robin frowned. "That's what I'm afraid of."

After a moment, Marian took Robin's hand and gestured for them to go somewhere apart from the group. He winked and then announced to the others, "We're going to scavenge for firewood."

"Firewood is the new honey," Much muttered mostly to himself.

Left in the cave, the rest of the gang wondered what to do next when Allan broke the silence with, "Well, looks like things worked out, eh?"

Will was the first to respond to him. "We still don't know if the Sheriff has a bigger scheme in mind or how he's going to take out his anger on villagers in the shire, so no, not really."

"Yeah, but, I mean, for now it's all right," Allan tried to clarify.

"I suppose you think we're going to thank you," Much said.

"Well…" Allan replied.

"Unbelievable!" Much exclaimed. "You think we're going to trust you, just like that?"

"Much," Djaq interjected.

He turned to her and said defiantly, "He betrayed us!"

"And he has done much good since then. Just wait until Robin returns and we'll decide what to do," she responded.

Will looked at her with growing doubt that her remark was just a matter of keeping the peace until Robin came back. He felt his suspicions confirmed as he watched her smile beam when her eyes met Allan's. He burned quietly and inconspicuously with jealousy.

* * *

The Sheriff slammed his fist on his desk. He was in the middle of a tirade. 

"Gisbourne, I wanted a head! Am I going to be fine without one? A clue: NO! So, since you haven't seemed to be using it, I'm taking yours!"

"Sir—"

"End of discussion. Guards!" he screamed. "Take _Sir_ Guy to the dungeon."

* * *

Outside the cave, Marian and Robin were walking in no particular direction. She had shown him the letter from Carter and they were discussing it. 

"Did Gisbourne say which Black Knight caught Carter?" Robin asked.

"No," she replied, "but I suspect that he is still alive. They may be cruel, but the Black Knights are not foolish enough to kill a source of information."

"I hope you are right."

"But, Robin, what of his message? Do you think the King really did leave the Holy Land?"

"If he did, there's no way of us knowing where he is or whether he's safe." He looked at her and sighed. "We just have to wait for word from him and continue our fight here."

"So, you've learned your lesson then?" she asked with a playful smile.

"There was a lesson?" Robin joked. "And here I thought it was just a game."

She elbowed him, he laughed and then grabbed her, kissing her passionately.

THE END.

* * *

**So, there it is--my idea for the series 2 finale. But there seems to be room for another story...hmm...**

**Thanks for reading!**


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